Death's Companion
by YellowIsNotMyColour
Summary: City of Bones AU; "'Please, don't eat on my bed,' Alec said, raising his left eyebrow at Death, who was half-lying on his bed, munching on a red apple. Death just grinned – his dark eyes never leaving Alec's blue ones – showing him his perfectly white teeth. 'Oh how I missed the sound of your voice, Alexander.'"
1. Death Likes Red Apples

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own the Mortal Instruments series. The world of Shadowhunters belongs to Cassandra Clare. There are also some quotes from the City of Bones book and from The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones Movie Trailer #2. So basically anything you recognize is obviously not mine.

**A/N: **As I'm not a native speaker of English, I need a lot of help to weed out grammar and spelling mistakes. There are undoubtedly many still left, even though I have re-read this chapter many times over. If anything catches your eye, please let me know. I make mistakes, I'm human. If I didn't make mistakes, I'd never learn. You can only go forward by making mistakes.

So, yeah. Seriously, grammar is my worst enemy. You have been warned! Also, reviews give me more motivation to update faster. Just sayin'. :)

Having a beta would be awesome…

* * *

**Chapter One: Death Likes Red Apples**

* * *

**XXX**

_Oh Death_

_Oh Death_

_Oh Death_

_Won't you spare me over another year?_

_But what is this that I can't see, with ice-cold hands taking hold of me?_

_When God is gone and the Devil takes hold, who'll have mercy on your soul?_

_Oh Death_

_No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold_

_Nothing satisfies me but your soul_

_Oh Death_

_Well I am Death, none can excel_

_I'll open the door to Heaven or Hell_

_Oh Death_

_Oh Death_

_My name is Death and the End is here..._

**XXX**

**Oh Death by Jen Titus **

**XXX**

* * *

"You're not going, Clary, and that's final," Jocelyn – Clary's mother and Alec's adoptive mother – said, rubbing her paint-stained hands on a towel draped over her left shoulder.

She and Clary had argued for the past hour. Alec, in turn, was sitting on the couch reading, every now and then pushing black bangs back from his blue eyes, trying not to watch his mother and baby sister fight.

He wasn't succeeding, though.

"I already promised Simon I would go!"

Jocelyn's lips compressed into a thin white-edged line. "Then tell Simon that you can't keep that promise."

_'If looks could kill,'_ thought Alec as Clary glared at Jocelyn.

"I'm going and I don't care if you like it or not!" Clary shouted. She took her bag from a hook and ran out of the door. After a moment Alec heard the front door of the building slam shut.

Jocelyn stared into nothing, an awful look on her face that made Alec wish he wasn't in the room. He hated fighting. Somebody always got hurt.

Jocelyn also seemed had forgotten that Alec was still in the room, if the way she was muttering under her breath was any indication. Alec quickly went back to his book.

His adoptive mother, Jocelyn Fray, was a very beautiful, elegant woman, even when she was sad or angry. She had really long, curly red hair that was a few shades darker than Clary's – Clary's hair was also shorter – and sharp, well-defined features.

Alec couldn't even remember how many times he had wished he was more like them – self-confident and brave. Instead, Alec was self-conscious and shy. Clary always said that Alec looked like he was uncomfortable in his own skin. Which he really was. He hated his pale skin that usually looked sickly, his jet-black hair that always looked like rat's nest and his overly long limbs. The only thing that Alec liked about himself was his deep blue eyes.

"Your book is upside down, Alexander."

Startling, Alec turned his eyes back to his adoptive mother, opening his mouth. She was smiling at him softly, her eyes looking little glazed over. Alec blushed and offered Jocelyn a small smile back. "Sorry, Mom, I…"

"It's all right sweetie, not your fault." Jocelyn sighed, turning back to look at the space Clary had stood just minutes ago. "She's too stubborn for her own good."

"Just like her mother," Alec stated, shutting the book and putting it down on the coffee table. "She's a teenager. She is ought to test her boundaries."

"You're a teenager and you still try to act wisely and be cautious."

Alec stood up and walked towards the kitchen. "I don't think I count as a teenager, I'm weird."

Jocelyn laughed and followed him. "That is so, so true."

**XXX**

The first time Alec encountered Death, he screamed like a banshee. And bit him. So he hadn't probably given a good first impression.

He had been six-year-old at the time, though, so it was understandable. Death had eventually forgiven him.

Now – almost twelve years later – he and Alec had formed mutual understanding.

"Please, don't eat on my bed."

Alec had just showered, his hair dripping water on the floor. Clary and Jocelyn were fighting – again – as he shut his room's door, raising his left eyebrow at Death, who was half-lying on his bed, munching on a red apple.

Death just grinned, his dark eyes never leaving Alec's.

Alec dropped his towel on his computer chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What are you doing here, Death?"

"Maybe I just came to say hi," answered Death, shrugging his black-clad shoulders. "Maybe I missed you, Alexander."

Alec glared at him, blushing. "Liar."

Death just smiled, showing Alec his perfectly white teeth. Alec felt bitter.

_'Even __**Death**__ looks better than I,' _he thought miserably and turned his head to look out of his room's only window. _'Looks like it's gonna rain.'_

"Alexander."

Something about Death's tone made Alec turn his eyes back to him.

The amusement had disappeared from Death's face. His seriousness sent shivers down Alec's spine. When Death was being serious, it usually didn't mean anything good.

"What?" Alec felt like throwing up. Maybe Death had come to tell him that Clary was going to die soon. Or Jocelyn. Or Simon. Luke, perhaps?

Suddenly Death was right in front of him, gazing him with his dark eyes.

"Your world is going to change. Your and Clarissa's. There's only so long you can hide from the truth."

Suddenly Alec was alone in his room, like he had been alone all along.

"What the hell?"

**XXX**

When Death had told him who he was, all those years ago, Alec had stared at him, stating: "Bullshit."

(Still understandable – he had been six!)

Then Death had proceeded to kill his pet cat Mr. Muffin – by touching him. That was the moment Alec had started to believe that he really could see death as a person.

(Killing his cat, by the way, explained all the screaming and biting that had happened.)

He had never told anyone about it, though.

He hadn't wanted to make Jocelyn worried about him. She had been so stressed about the fact that when Clary had been three she had told her that she had tried to play with "fawries" in the park, but they hadn't wanted to play with her.

Alec hadn't ever seen his adoptive mother looking more terrified as she had looked back then.

So Alec didn't tell her or anybody else that he could see people with horns and tails; he didn't talk about how he had seen people whose skin were odd colored (like blue or green); he didn't tell anyone that once in the park he had seen a woman with muddy-brown wings, and that she had winked at him when she had caught him staring.

He didn't tell anyone he could see Death and that he was Alec's best friend.

**XXX**

"You've reached Simon the Great, how can I help you?"

"Is Clary with you?" Alec asked, going through the mail at the same time.

"Well hello there, Alec! Yes, I am well, thanks for asking…"

"Simon!"

"Yeah yeah… Clary's with me. She wants to go to the Pandemonium."

"Pandemonium?"

"Yeah, it's a club."

"Oh."

Alec didn't like clubbing. In fact, he hated it.

"Well, have fun and look after Clary!"

"Duh Captain Obvious! See ya!"

Simon hung up before Alec had time to reply.

Alec liked Simon, he really did, but Simon was his sister's best friend and they just weren't in the same wavelength. Plus, Simon was in love with Clary – obvious to everybody else but Clary herself – and as a big brother it was Alec's duty to not like the guy who drooled after his little sister.

Yuck.

"I think he's a doll."

Alec flinched, dropping the mail all over the living room floor.

Death was slouching on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, eyelids hooded, but Alec could feel his gaze on him. He was also smirking.

"Boo."

"That's not funny!" Alec snapped, bending to collect the mail from the floor. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

That just made Death's smirk grow.

"Ha-ha." Sometimes Alec hated Death more than anything. Especially when Death made fun of him. "You're hilarious."

"It's happening tonight."

Alec collapsed on the blue armchair – the one full of paint stains – and sighed. "Would it hurt you to stop being cryptic all the time? What's happening tonight?"

Death continued like Alec hadn't said anything. "Every day you live your life... Ordinary, normal... But there's only so long you can hide from the truth."

Alec felt cold. "You already told me that… What do you mean 'there's only so long you can hide from the truth'? What truth?"

Death just stared at him with his dark, cold eyes. He wasn't smirking anymore. "You're not a mundane, Alexander. You have a terrible gift; you just have to learn how to use it."

"What's a mundane?" Alec asked, whispering. "What gift?"

"Tonight, two worlds will collide: the Human World and the Shadow World."

"Death—"

Alec's words died on his lips, because suddenly he was alone, once again.

**XXX**

"All wrong… No, no, no, no…"

Alec leaned against the door frame, smiling softly as he watched his sister tore yet another sheet from her sketchpad, crumple it up, and toss it against the orange wall of her bedroom. She was sitting on her bed, muttering to herself, surrounded with discarded balls of paper.

"And his arm looked like an eggplant."

Alec couldn't help but snicker. _'Don't ever change little sister.'_

"Allie!"

Alec smirked at Clary as she pulled headphones out of her ears, rubbing her temples at the same time.

"How long have you been standing there?" She finally asked, raising her eyes to look at him.

"Long enough."

Suddenly the loud, piercing sound of a ringing telephone was echoing through the apartment.

"I'll answer! It's probably for me!" Clary shouted, tossing her sketchpad onto the bed, jumping to her feet and running past Alec, towards the living room.

Alec laughed quietly as he heard his sister's voice answering the call. "Yeees?"

There was a moment of silence, until…

"SIMON!" Clary was holding the phone away from her ear when Alec stepped into the living room. "That is so not funny!"

Alec rolled his eyes, knowing how annoying Simon could sometimes be.

"Jerk," Clary sighed and leaned up against the wall, pretending not to notice Alec's questioning gaze. "You wouldn't be laughing if you'd been here when I got home last night."

Alec shuddered. It hadn't been pretty.

Looking away from Clary, Alec's eyes met Death's dark ones. Death was also leaning against the living room wall, staring at him almost innocently.

Alec wasn't too worried. Clary couldn't see Death.

But Death's cryptic words haunted Alec's mind.

_"You're not a mundane, Alexander. You have a terrible gift."_

Alec kept his gaze locked with Death's. _'What are you trying to tell me?'_

"Alec?"

Alec snapped his eyes back to Clary. She wasn't on the phone with Simon anymore, and was staring at him with her big green eyes. "Are you all right?"

No, he wasn't. And Alec was sure Clary wasn't all right either.

"Clary," Alec started, "did something happen last ni…"

The front door then opened with a thump, interrupting Alec's question. It was Luke – Jocelyn's close friend – who had his arms full of what looked like big square pieces of pasteboard. When he set them down, Alec realized that they were cardboard boxes, folded flat. When Luke straightened up he turned to them with a smile.

"Hey, Un— hey, Luke," Clary said, filling the silence. "Where's Mom?"

"Parking the truck," Luke answered, stretching. "Kids, remind me again why this building has no service elevator?"

"Because it's old, and has _character_," answered Clary immediately, making both Alec and Luke to grin. "What are the boxes for?" she also asked.

Luke's grin vanished in a blink. "Your mother wanted to pack up some things," he answered, cryptically. Alec's eyes sought Death's, who just smiled back at him. _'You and Luke have something in common.'_

"What things?" Clary asked, stubbornly.

Luke just shrugged. "Extra stuff lying around the house. Getting in the way. You know she never throws anything out. So what are you two up to? Studying?"

Clary shook her head. "No. School's not for a few weeks."

Luke started rummaging in the tool kit next to the hearth, making satisfied noise as he pulled out an orange plastic tape gun.

Clary glanced at Alec. "Luke, what would you do if you saw something nobody else could see?"

Alec froze. Luke dropped the tape gun on the floor.

"You mean if I were the only witness to a crime, that sort of thing?" Luke finally asked, kneeling to pick the tape gun up.

"No. I mean, if there were other people around, but you were the only one who could see something. As if it were invisible to everyone but you."

_'No, no, no…'_

"I know it sounds crazy," Clary ventured nervously, "but…"

_'Clary, don't…' _Alec thought, wanting to desperately just tell Clary to stop talking.

Luke didn't say anything for a while.

"Clary," he finally stated, "you're an artist, like your mother. That means you see the world in ways that other people don't. It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy – just different. There's nothing wrong with being different."

Before either Alec or Clary could say anything back, the door swung open and Jocelyn stalked into the room, her boot heels clacking on the polished wooden floor.

"Thanks for bringing the boxes up," Jocelyn said to Luke, and smiled at him. She looked exhausted. Alec also noticed that Luke didn't return the smile. "Sorry it took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people at the park today—"

"What are all these boxes for?" Alec interrupted.

Jocelyn bit her lip, avoiding his eyes.

"Is this about last night?" Clary asked in turn.

"No," Jocelyn said quickly, and then hesitated. "Maybe a little. You shouldn't have done what you did last night, Clary. You know better."

"And I already apologized. What is this about? If you're grounding me, get it over with."

"I'm not," said Jocelyn, "grounding you." Her voice was as taut as a wire. Luke was shaking his head.

"Just tell them, Jocelyn," he said.

"Could you not talk about us like we're not here?" Clary said angrily. "And what do you mean, tell us? Tell us what?"

Alec wanted to tell her to stop whining, but he also wanted some answers.

_"Your world is going to change. Your and Clarissa's. There's only so long you can hide from the truth."_

Jocelyn expelled a sigh. "We're going on vacation."

Luke's expression went blank.

"That's what this is about? You're going on vacation?" Clary threw herself down on the couch. "I don't get it. Why the big production?"

"I don't think you understand. I meant we're all going on vacation. The four of us – you, Alec, me, and Luke. We're going to the farmhouse."

Luke was staring out of the window, arms crossed over his chest.

"For how long?" Alec decided to ask.

"For the rest of the summer," said Jocelyn. "I brought the boxes in case you want to pack up any books, painting supplies—"

"For the rest of the summer?!" Clary suddenly yelled. "I can't do that, Mom. I have plans – Simon and I were going to have a back-to-school party, and I've got a bunch of meetings with my art group, and ten more classes at Tisch—"

"I'm sorry about Tisch. But the other things can be canceled. Simon will understand, and so will your art group."

Clearly it was the wrong thing to say. "But I paid for those art classes! I saved up all year! You promised. I mean, I know Alec doesn't really have any friends or hobbies so there's nothing stopping him to go, but I—"

"Clarissa!"

Alec felt hurt. The fact that Clary was right didn't make it hurt any less; Alec really didn't have any friends – except Death – and he spent all his free time alone in his room, reading.

"It's not fair!"

"I have to get away, Clary," Jocelyn said, the corners of her mouth trembling. "I need the peace, the quiet, to paint. And money is tight right now—"

"I. Don't. Care!"

"I'm leaving," Luke suddenly interrupted, looking slightly upset.

"Wait, Luke—" Jocelyn hurried after him into the entryway.

Clary looked really upset. Alec, on the other hand, tried to ignore the conversation by the door, catching only a few snippets.

_'Who the hell is Bane?'_

"Hey," he said, sitting next to Clary on the couch, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," answered Clary, her green eyes meeting Alec's blue ones. "I'm really sorry what I said, about you having no friends. It was really mean thing to say."

"It's okay," Alec said, smiling softly at her. "I'm not mad."

Clary returned the smile.

The moment was broken by Jocelyn's scream.

Both Alec and Clary whipped their heads towards the entryway as Luke exclaimed: "Jesus!"

"Actually, it's just me," said Simon. "Although I've been told the resemblance is startling." He waved at Clary and Alec from the doorway. "Hiya there, Alec! You ready, Clary?"

Clary was already on her feet. "Yeah, let's go. Bye Allie!"

"Clary—" Jocelyn started but Clary was already out of the door.

"Bye, Mrs. Fray!" Simon called as Clary half-dragged him away with her. "Have a nice evening! See ya later Luke, Alec!"

_'Well isn't this awkward,' _Alec thought, staring at his adoptive mother and kind-of-uncle.

"I just go to my room…" he said softly, after a moment. "I... yeah."

**XXX**

Death looked out of Alec's window, his gaze following Clarissa's and Simon's retreating backs as they walked along the road. He was munching on a red apple, its juice dripping all over the floor.

He was also smiling.

"So, shall we begin?"

* * *

**TBC…**


	2. Death Doesn't Like Cemeteries

**Disclaimer: **Lyrics belong to Tuomas Holopainen.

**A/N: **Thank you very much to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited! Seriously, knowing that there are people out there who are enjoying this story is the best motivation that anyone can get!

And to answer _NaruSasuxoxoxo_'s question: I don't wanna spoil the story for you, so I'm not telling. Let's just say Alec and Death's relationship is complicated. :)

R&R!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Death Doesn't Like Cemeteries**

* * *

**XXX**

_I am the journey,_

_I am the destination,_

_I am the home_

_The tale that reads you_

_A way to taste the night,_

_The elusive high_

_Follow the madness,_

_Alice, you know once did_

_Imaginarium, a dream emporium_

_Caress the tales_

_And they will dream you real_

_A storyteller's game,_

_Lips that intoxicate_

_The core of all life_

_Is a limitless chest of tales..._

_I am the voice of Never Never Land,_

_The innocence, the dreams of every man,_

_I am the empty crib of Peter Pan,_

_A silent kite against the blue, blue sky,_

_Every chimney, every moonlit sight_

_I am the story that will read you real,_

_Every memory that you hold dear_

**XXX**

**Storytime by Nightwish**

**XXX**

* * *

The sun shone in hazy dapples against Alec's skin, warming him as he stretched his stiff muscles.

"Rise and shine," Death's overly enthusiastic voice suddenly announced, making Alec to pull his pillow over his head.

"Go. Away."

"You make me feel so loved," answered Death sarcastically, and Alec could hear him move closer to his bed. "But seriously Alexander, you really should get up now. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Alec pulled one side of the pillow away so he could peer up at Death. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Death sighed. "Just come to the living room and you'll understand."

Alec groaned but pushed himself to his feet – rubbing his eyes at the same time – and followed Death out of the door, not bothering to change out of his loose black t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

When Alec stepped into the living room, he wished he had just stayed in bed. The living room looked like a bomb had hit it: the cushions had been ripped from the couch and scattered around the room; the bookshelves had been tipped over, their contents also scattered, and every single one of Jocelyn's paintings had been destroyed.

"What," Alec asked, voice slightly shaking, "what the hell happened?"

"You use the phrase 'what the hell' quite often."

He shot Death a very murderous glare, feeling angry. "What. The. Hell. Happened?!"

Death just looked around, looking bored. "Do you remember what happened after that big fight between your sister and mother?"

"I—" Alec felt his stomach twist. "I went to my room after Clary left with Simon, and you were there – standing by my window – and then you looked at me, and—"

Suddenly Alec felt angrier than he had ever felt before.

"You," he cried out, pointing a finger at Death's face, "you punched me!"

Death ignored his accusing words, and sat down on the ruined couch. "I did what was necessary; I needed you to be unconscious. Besides, I healed you right after. Your pretty face is clear from any bruises."

"I— Oh my god!" Alec looked down and swallowed, feeling horrified. "I was wearing jeans!"

"You lost me," Death said, looking slightly puzzled.

"Jeans! I was wearing jeans! And now I'm wearing pajama bottoms!"

Alec wasn't panicking. He wasn't.

Well, maybe a little.

"Oh, right. Well, guilty as charged."

Alec hadn't ever wanted to hit anybody as much as he did at the moment, but then he remembered Clary and Jocelyn.

"Oh my god, what happened to Clary and Mom?!"

"Clarissa's safe," answered Death, "little shocked perhaps, but safe. Your mommy Jocelyn? Well, she's been better."

"What—"

"Let me finish," Death interrupted, huffing a little, "Jocelyn has not been… well… totally honest with you nor Clarissa."

Alec wrapped his arms around himself protectively. "What do you mean?"

Death just looked at him, holding his gaze unblinkingly. "I think you know, Alexander."

And he did. Alec had known his whole childhood that Jocelyn had been hiding something from him and Clary – something big. He had never asked, but the way she had sometimes acted had been a good indication.

"I never asked… just like I never told her nor Clary about you. It was not my place to question her when she was kind enough to treat me like I was her own blood," he finally whispered softly, closing his eyes, not wanting Death to see his pain. "Some part of me did not even want to know, not really."

Death just sighed, and when Alec opened his eyes again the couch was empty and Death was standing by the front door.

"It is not my place to tell you the truth. Come with me, I'll take you to Clarissa. Just change your clothes first; I mean, the t-shirt is ok, but people will probably stare if you leave the house in your pajama bottoms."

Alec felt like his feet were glued to the floor. He trusted Death, he really did – which was kind of stupid, because, well, he was _Death_ – but Alec was scared what he would find once he stepped out of the building. It was his home, after all – his safe haven.

_"Your world is going to change. Your and Clarissa's. There's only so long you can hide from the truth."_

The moment was broken by his growling stomach.

"What— oh my god, I'm so hungry!"

"Oh did I not tell you? You were out like a candle for three whole days," Death replied, shrugging as he opened the door. "Apparently I can throw a very mean punch."

"WHAT?!"

**XXX**

"Where are we going?" Alec asked trying to keep up with Death's fast pace at the same time.

"You'll see."

Alec chewed his lip. He wanted to yell Death some more, but they were outside and normal people couldn't see Death, and Alec didn't want to look crazy.

Though he did, in fact, doubt his own sanity every now and then.

"We have been walking the whole day," he quietly complained as they crossed yet another road. "Can you at least slow down a little? You have longer legs than I."

"Stop complaining; we also used the subway. And besides, we cannot be late."

"Late from what?" Alec asked, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to calm down. "Death, please."

"Patience Alexander, patience."

Alec was just going to tell Death were to stuff his patience when Death suddenly stopped, making Alec's body connect with his back.

"Shit!" Alec cried out, earning himself weird looks from people passing by. "Next time you suddenly stop walking, please warn me," he hissed out loud, holding his head.

"Quiet."

Death was staring intently at something, standing totally still – like a marble statue. Alec followed his gaze, spotting an elderly man with a walking stick, walking slowly towards him and Death. His movements were uncoordinated, and he was gripping his chest with his other hand.

"Death, please tell me you're not going to—"

Suddenly Death strolled forward, totally ignoring him. All the color drained from the old man's face as his eyes met Death's. He didn't stand a chance – no one did against Death.

_Blink._

Only one touch from Death was enough; one blink later the man was already lying on the ground, dead.

Someone started screaming, but Alec just stared numbly at Death, who in turn stared at the body for a while before turning and walking back to him.

Death had collected the soul. Without it the man's destiny was sealed; no one could save him but Death. And Death didn't save people, he just took their lives.

He was the Grim Reaper, after all.

It wasn't the first time Alec witnessed someone's death. With Death as his best friend, it was impossible not to see him in action. But it didn't mean Alec had to like it – in fact, Alec was sure he would never be okay with it.

He saw Death all the time but most people saw him only once – just before their death.

"Sorry for the delay," Death said after he was close enough. "Let's carry on."

Alec was silent for the rest of their walk, walking with his eyes trained resolutely on the ground.

**XXX**

The moon was high and pale in the sky by the time Death finally stopped walking.

Right in front of a heavy wrought iron gate, trellised with dark vines.

"You brought me to the New York City Marble Cemetery," Alec deadpanned, turning to look at Death who was standing next to him. "Seriously. This is wrong on so many levels."

"Yes," Death answered, ignoring his last statement and tilting his face towards the moon. "And we're early. Good."

Then he turned to look back at Alec. "Alexander, do you remember all those bedtime stories I told you when you were younger?"

Alec was sure he had never felt more confused. "Yes, yes of course I do. Why?"

"Well." Death hummed softly. "They weren't just stories."

"You mean," Alec asked, bemused, "that Peter Pan is a real person?"

Death gave him an odd look. "Alexand— Alec. Let's pretend you seriously didn't just ask that." He sighed, turning his eyes towards the gate. "I meant, you remember what I've told you about demon hunters?"

"Shadowhunters," Alec corrected automatically, crossing his arms across his chest protectively. "Yeah, I do. Wait, you mean—?"

"Yes. Shadowhunters, demons, warlocks, vampires, werewolves, faeries— you name it. They're all real."

"Oh my god." Alec felt like fainting. "You mean, that woman in the park with wings—?"

"She's a good example. I'm pretty sure she was a warlock."

"Oh."

Alec took a deep breath, trying to realign his thoughts.

"So—"

"Clarissa is a Shadowhunter. And so was Jocelyn, once upon a time."

"Oh."

Everything Death had said was surreal, though Alec knew that Death hadn't lied – after all Alec had seen odd things his entire life.

"Wait a minute," Alec started, "You said earlier that it is not your place to tell me the truth. What changed your mind?"

"I didn't tell you the whole truth," Death said, and opened the gate. "Just some facts. I do care about your happiness – I'm not totally heartless, you know."

Alec blushed, biting his lip. "My happiness?"

"I know you don't like it when you don't know something. I told you some facts so that when you meet Clarissa and her sarcastic knight in shining leather you don't seem like a total idiot."

"Umm…."

Death quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly smiling. "I want you to go to the Bone City with Clarissa."

Alec startled. "You want me to go…"

"To the Bone City yes, you heard correctly. Unfortunately, I cannot come with you."

"Why not?" Alec didn't understand. "And what city? You do realize that this is a cemetery?"

"I cannot come because I don't like cemeteries," Death stated, making a moue of distaste, "so yes, I do realize that the New York City Marble Cemetery is, in fact, a cemetery. I'm the Grim Reaper, not an idiot."

"You don't like cemeteries?" Alec deadpanned. "You are _Death_ and you don't like _cemeteries_?!"

"Cemeteries have this inhospitable atmosphere; it's not very welcoming."

"I— Never mind, I don't even wanna know." Alec sighed, and walked through the gate. He turned to look at Death over his right shoulder. "What's the real reason you don't come with me?"

Death's smile was as sharp as razors.

Suddenly Alec was standing by the gate all by himself.

**XXX**

The muted morning light was still new in the sky as Alec started to twirl a blade of grass between his fingers.

He had been sitting on the ground – front of a big marble monument – for the past six hours. Six. Fucking. Hours.

His legs were numb, he was very thirsty, and his stomach felt like it was eating itself.

_'Time crawls like a snail.'_

"Dammit Clary, where are you?" he murmured, watching the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees at the edge of the cemetery.

Alec was ready to leave when he heard a rhythmic sound of hooves hitting the ground. He raised his head only to see two horses – black as smoke – stopping right in front of him. They were pulling a pitch black carriage, and on the driver's bench sat a tall man who was dressed in a parchment-colored robe, his face hidden beneath its hood.

_'Talk about a dramatic entrance.'_

Alec barely had time to stand up before the carriage's door swung open and an angel jumped down from it.

Well not an angel – just a boy who looked like one. His curly hair gleamed like brass in the sunlight, and his frame was slim yet muscular; he was inhumanly handsome.

Luckily Death was also unnaturally good-looking, so Alec wasn't too amazed by the angelic boy.

But he did stare long enough to meet the boy's golden eyes.

"Robert?!"

* * *

**TBC...**


End file.
